Beauty Charms
by weasleyisyourking
Summary: Hermione ponders her inability to perform cosmetic charms on the night of her first date with Ron. ONE SHOT.


Hey, I know I'm well overdue for another chapter of TTATTTB but I just couldn't get this idea out of my head, not sure about the turn out, particularly the ending, but oh well, any feedback is completely welcome and encouraged, as always! With regards to TTATTTB I plan to write the entire thing, or at least have a start to finish plan for the entire thing before publishing it, I could also do with a Beta, apply within! Anyway, a quick Romione One Shot- Enjoy! :) x

**Disclaimer:** Unfortunately I am not J.K. Rowling, so none of this is mine- although I'd totally be down for a Freaky Friday scenario...

_Beauty Charms._

**Hermione ponders her inability to perform cosmetic charms on the night of her first date with Ron.**

Stood in front of the mirror in The Burrow's only bathroom, she contemplates both the book of beauty charms and the muggle make up by the sink before her. She'd never particularly had a penchant for beauty charms, Lavender or Parvati had always done them for her when the occasion had arose, even Ginny had been at hand if it was required. It wasn't that she hadn't tried them herself, Merlin knew the amount of hours at weekends in her 4th and 5th year at Hogwarts she'd spent in the bathroom trying to perfect those charms; but as close as she came there was always something wrong- the blusher was too heavy or the lipstick the wrong shade, she knew enough to know what was wrong but not enough to know how to fix it.

Her basic understanding of magic came from the theory that to perform a spell and to perform it correctly, one had to _mean _the spell, had to really want it to work, she knew from experience that some of her best and most powerful magic had been performed at times when she had needed it most, in the final battle, at the ministry, in Godric's Hollow and prior to that horrible year, in her OWLs; all in times where, at that moment, nothing had felt more important than getting that spell right, it was that or face the consequences and as she looked at the make-up laying on the counter, she failed to see the consequences of being unable to blend foundation so it matched her skin tone. She thought of Ron, Ron who she had been fighting her feelings for since the tender age of 13, Ron who had seemed to forget that she was a girl until a year later, Ron who was too stubborn for his own good, Ron who ate too much, all the time, Ron who was both so damn awful and yet utterly perfect that it almost hurt her head to contemplate why she loved him as much as she did; she couldn't show up to their first date like this! She ran her fingers through her hair which neither curled nor stayed straight, rather, it seemed to grow in a triangle, defying physics by getting thicker the longer it grew, the ends felt like straw and she tried to remember when she had last had it cut... The summer before 6th year- before her trip to The Burrow! Had it really been two years? She then turned her attention to her face, her skin was pale and eyes were sunken in and rimmed purple from lack of sleep, a year of light sleeping on the run, having to be ready to leave at a moment's notice, combined with the horrors of the last three years catching up on her meant she'd rarely had a decent night's sleep in over a year. In all the nights she'd dreamt about her first date with Ron, she had never looked like this, her hair had been poker straight or fallen in soft barrel curls, her face had been free of blemishes and scarring and she'd looked healthy rather than heading for deaths door.

In honesty, she knew why these particular charms had always eluded her, even while still at Hogwarts she had known why deep down, but as she looked in the mirror at her unmade up face, 18 year old Hermione knew why she was so bewildered by the cosmetics that lay before her. In a time where not knowing how to perform a stunning spell, a jelly legs jinx, a body bind curse or a disarming charm could cost you more than marks in an exam, where not being ready to react with whichever spells you had in your arsenal would cost you your life, she had never had the heart to really _want _to learn the beauty charms. If she thought back, those hours in the bathroom were really spent worrying, as all her time had been for the last seven years, spent worrying about Harry, worrying about Ron, about Sirius, Ginny, Fred, George, Neville, Luna and every other damn thing that had been going on. How could she find the time to learn how to make her cheeks glow when there was a wizard out there who wouldn't rest until her best friend was dead? How could she justify sparing the time to learn how to de-frizz her hair when there was an army of people, starting within the castle walls who were willing to fight against muggle born rights, to bring about her expulsion from the wizarding world and failing that, fighting to bring her to her death?

But tonight there was no one around to help her, Lavender was dead, savaged by Greyback in the final battle, she hadn't seen Parvati since Lavender's funeral and Ginny was out with Harry, for once she would have to work it out on her own. She looked at the muggle make up she'd bought from Boots that afternoon, since she had started at Hogwarts, her relationship with her mother hadn't been what it had used to be and therefore she had never had the make-up tutorials that her muggle friends had received, another wave of grief passed through her as she thought of her parents in Australia, none the wiser as to her existence. She couldn't regret what she had done, but for the millionth time, she acknowledged her hate of Voldemort, who had given her the cause to do it. Thinking about it, as she catches the book of beauty charms and the array of muggle make up side by side, she thinks there's something quite poetic about it, ironic almost, both sides to her life lying so innocently next to each other, her heritage entirely unaware of the controversy it's caused her in her new world, entirely oblivious to her new world's existence.

Frankly, she still wasn't sure if she was ready to go on a date with Ron, that wasn't to say she wasn't sure of her feelings for him, those she'd been dealing with since fourth year; but it all just seemed too raw, only a month before they were still on the run, hunting for horcruxes; only two weeks ago they were attending the funerals of some of their best friends. It didn't feel right, that herself, Ron and especially Harry were at the top of the Death Eater's hit list yet had made it out of the final battle physically unscathed while Lavender, Fred, Remus, Tonks and so many others were gone and now, barely a month later, she was going to dinner with her boyfriend (was he her boyfriend?), it just didn't seem right.

As she turns to leave the bathroom and ask Ron if maybe they can rearrange this for another night (after all, they have the rest of their lives now) she hears a tapping at the window, as she opens it, Pig flies in (the war seemingly had no effect on the excitability of the small bird) with a small note in his beak, stroking the birds head with her thumb she begins to read,

_Hermione,_

_I imagine you're upstairs stressing about something unimportant, don't. We've waited too long to do this and life's too short! I expect you downstairs in 10 mins as planned- __don't be late! _

_Can't wait to see you- Ron x_

She smiled and put the note by the sink with everything else and read the instructions one last time, life really was too short, she pondered sadly. With a deep breath to calm herself, she closed her eyes and thought of how Ron might react when she would walk down the stairs in 10 minutes, smiling as she spoke the incantation, she knew she it would be perfect before she'd even opened her eyes.


End file.
